


Silver Trio

by Musyc



Series: Silver Trio 'Verse [2]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Anal Plug, Anonymity, Blaise Zabini - character, Body Part Kinks, Boot Worship, Breathplay, Community: kink_bingo, Draco Malfoy - character, Established Relationship, F/M, Gags, M/M, Multi, Nipple Clamps, Oral Fixation, Pansy Parkinson - Character, Polyamorous relationship, Polyamory, Pregnancy Kink, Quidditch, Sleepy Sex, Smoking, Subspace, Uniforms, Watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-06-11
Updated: 2012-04-27
Packaged: 2017-10-20 08:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 10,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musyc/pseuds/Musyc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loosely connected ficlets written for kink_bingo 2011. Set in AU postwar universe with Blaise/Draco/Pansy as an established polyamorous triad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clamps

Blaise leaned back and kicked his feet up under the table, thumping them down on the bench opposite. He poked Draco in the process, who grimaced and shoved his feet aside. Blaise grinned as he saw Draco reach under the table and brush dust off his trousers. "Fussy little prick," he said.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Right. I'm the one who spends thirty minutes in front of the mirror every morning, then, looking for _pores_."

"If you paid a little more attention to your--"

"Oh, for god's sake, not this again." Pansy slid a tray with three bottles of lager onto the table and nestled into the booth next to Blaise. He slung one arm around her shoulders as she looked at them with her short nose wrinkled. "You both are very pretty. There. Now can we talk about something else for once?"

Draco raised his brows, bottle touching his lips. He lowered it and cocked his head. "Someone's cranky. What's wrong, Parks?"

Blaise shifted enough to look at her. Pansy's cheeks were a light shade of pink that deepened as he and Draco watched. After a minute, Pansy sighed. She turned on the bench, putting her back to the rest of the pub, and reached into the neckline of her dress. She pulled up a thin silver chain. "These things aren't tight enough," she muttered.

Draco hissed and his hand fell on Blaise's ankle, squeezing hard. Blaise didn't move. He looked at Pansy, eyes wide, as her face went from pink to scarlet. She lowered the chain back into her neckline and Blaise gripped her wrist. Silently, he pulled a loop of the chain to leave it dangling outside her dress. "You're wearing them _here_?"

Pansy nodded and flicked a gesture at Draco. "He asked me once before. I thought tonight would be a good night to try it out since we weren't planning on going anywhere special. Put them on before we left, but I didn't put them on tight enough." She wriggled on the bench, making a face. "They're not fun. They're irritating. I keep thinking they're going to fall off."

Blaise glanced at Draco. Draco's mouth was hanging open, the tip of his tongue against his bottom lip. Blaise smiled. He moved one foot, pushing it between Draco's thighs until his heel touched Draco's groin.

Draco jumped. He shoved Blaise's foot down and swallowed hard, his throat moving. "Didn't think she'd do it," he muttered. "Not out in public. Dammit, now I'm going to be thinking about that for the rest of the night. Which, by the way," he said, lifting his head to give Blaise a long and heated look, "is not going to be much longer."

Blaise chuckled. He drew his wand and flicked it, putting a distraction charm around their booth, sound and sight blocked from prying eyes. "Pansy," he said as he put his wand away and took a long drink of his lager. "You put those on for Draco, yeah? I think he should get to see. Pull your dress down."

Pansy made a soft sound and tucked one finger into her neckline. Curling her finger, she pulled the neckline down. Blaise watched as it slid lower and exposed the curves of her breasts. Pansy wriggled beside him, turning her head to lay it on his shoulder when she'd pulled the dress down to rest against her ribcage. Blaise rubbed the nape of her neck and looked at Draco.

Draco's grey eyes were hooded, his attention locked on Pansy's breasts, on the silver clamps that held her nipples. He took a deep breath and licked his lips. "Looks good," he said, his voice low and strained.

Blaise kept his eyes on Draco as he reached across himself and cupped one of Pansy's breasts. He brushed his thumb against one of the clamps. Pansy whimpered and burrowed her face into his shoulder. Draco sank his teeth into his lip as he met Blaise's eyes. Blaise smiled. "Feels good, too," he said. He slipped his hand up, covering Pansy's breast. The clamp dug into his palm as he pressed his hand to her. From the quiet sound she made, the jerk of her body against his side, he knew she'd forgotten that the clamps were loose. Her breathing had become audible and her hands were twitching on the table, her fingers curling and flexing as if she were kneading her own breasts.

Blaise wrapped his fingers in her hair and tipped her head up. He flicked his tongue over her lips and she opened for him. He kissed her, his hand pressing against her breast until she yelped into his mouth. The sound, even muffled by their kiss, sent a bolt of heat through him. Blaise gripped the clamp itself, squeezed it around her nipple, and Pansy groaned. An answering moan came from across the table and Blaise tugged Pansy's lip with his teeth as he felt Draco move to sit beside them.

Draco's fingers touched Blaise's cheek. They slipped across his jaw and caught Pansy's chin. Blaise raised his head to watch as Draco pulled her head around. His hand dropped to her breast and he lifted it in his palm. Pansy flung her arms around his neck and kissed him hard, her back arched to press her breasts into their hands. Draco copied Blaise's movements, each knead of their fingers bringing another soft whimper from Pansy.

She lowered her arms to place her hands over theirs. She kissed Draco, turned her head and kissed Blaise. Gasping, she tipped her head back and pushed their hands against her breasts. "Fuck," she muttered, writhing between them. "You are such--" Blaise squeezed hard and Pansy squealed, bucking up and slamming against the booth. " _Bastards_. Take me home and fuck me before I kill you. Both of you."

"Kill both of us or fuck both of us?" Draco laughed as Pansy growled. "I'm voting for the second. But only if you keep the clamps on."


	2. Gauntlets

Draco watched Pansy kneel by the bureau and pull open the lowest drawer to rummage in the back of it. The floor creaked and he looked up as Blaise, always the last to come to bed, entered the room. "What's she doing?" he asked.

Draco flicked a page of his magazine over, the sound sharp in their room. "Looking for my gauntlets," he said. He held up the magazine so Blaise could see the cover, where a man in the black and white uniform of the Montrose Magpies circled around a goal hoop. "She wondered if I still had any bits of my school uniform left. Think the gauntlets were the only thing I kept."

Blaise hummed quietly and stripped off his shirt, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. He pushed a pillow up against the headboard and dropped onto the bed. Both hands tucked behind his head, he watched Pansy. "If you'd quit putting expansion charms on every bit of furniture, she could have found them by now," he said.

Draco looked at him, then closed up the magazine and set it on the bedside table. Blaise's tone had been different, somewhat curious, and it caught Draco's attention. "You in a hurry?" he asked, turning on his side to face Blaise.

Blaise flicked a glance at him, his dark eyes shimmering in the low light. "Maybe," he said, voice slow and drawling. Blaise dragged one finger down Draco's arm, lingering at the hollow of his elbow. Draco shivered. He _knew_ Blaise was aware of what that touch did to him and knew Blaise had done it deliberately.

He leaned over Blaise, chest to chest. "Maybe," he repeated as he stared into Blaise's eyes. "Doesn't sound like a 'maybe' to me. No, sounds like something entirely different. Sounds like Pansy's not the only one who likes a man in Quidditch gear."

Blaise laughed and pushed Draco's fringe away from his eyes. "Why the hell else do you think I attended every match? Certainly wasn't because I had any interest in _sport_. Had an interest in the Seeker, though."

Draco growled and dipped his head to nip at the curve of Blaise's ear. Blaise's arms slid around him, hands heavy on his shoulder blades. Blaise mumbled a quiet acknowledgement as Pansy shouted "Found them!" with glee in her voice, and Draco bit hard on Blaise's ear to turn that quiet sound into a loud grunt.

Draco felt the bed dip as Pansy crawled up from the bottom of it. She climbed atop him, her weight pressing him into Blaise. With soft breasts on his back and a solid cock against his hip, Draco groaned in pleasure. The laces of his gauntlets tickled at his cheek as Pansy dangled them over his head. "Put 'em on," she said, rolling away to give him room to move.

Draco sat up, kneeling to straddle one of Pansy's legs. Blaise nudged him and Draco shifted to trap their thighs between his knees. The leather of the gauntlets was a bit stiff from lack of use, but he tugged them on after a little work. He flexed his fingers, settling the gauntlets into position. He looked up and felt his heart pound. Pansy and Blaise were watching his every movement with hunger in their faces. Pansy toyed with one of her nipples through the thin material of her nightdress; Blaise caressed his stomach, one finger circling his navel.

Draco held his hands out. "Lace me," he said, surprised by the hoarse quality of his voice. The gauntlets were just equipment to him, just tools, but it was an incredible sensation to realize how much his lovers were enjoying this. They were both shaking as they reached up to tighten the laces and snug the gauntlets to his forearms.

Pansy reached for him first, Blaise a second behind her, but Draco pushed both their hands away. He dragged his fingers down their chests and stomachs, drew circles on their hips before he turned his hands over. Left hand on Pansy's mound, right hand on Blaise's cock, he pressed the leather against their bodies through lacey silk knickers and cotton pyjama bottoms. Pansy whimpered and Blaise sucked in a gasp.

Draco pressed and pushed, rubbing the gauntlets against them. Soon there was a damp spot on Pansy's knickers, moistening his fingers as he pushed the fabric into her folds and probed at the round entrance of her cunt. Blaise's pyjamas had a small wet spot as well, the tip of his leaking cock outlined beneath the material. Draco cupped them both, cunt and cock, and growled. "Off," he commanded.

Both scrabbled to obey. Pansy jerked her nightdress up and her knickers down; Blaise shoved at his pyjamas and his cock sprang free. Draco loosened the drawstring of his pyjama bottoms and pulled his cock upright to rub against his stomach as he leaned over the pair.

He returned his hands to position. Two fingers slipped deep into Pansy's cunt and she wailed, grinding on his hand as he flicked his thumb against her clit. He wrapped his other hand around Blaise's length, thumb rubbing over the darkened head and around the ridge. Blaise grunted and thrust into the channel formed by Draco's fingers.

Draco smiled. "You know, if you react like this to my gauntlets," he said, shoving into Pansy and pumping on Blaise, grinning wide as both groaned, "I should see about getting a full uniform made again. What do you think? Want to fuck the winning Seeker in the locker room after the match?"

Blaise's response was inarticulate, but Pansy shoved up onto her elbows, sweat dampening her nightdress between her breasts. "Fuck that," she said, her breath coming in pants. "That winning Seeker is flying down into the stands and _getting_ fucked as a reward."

Draco's cock throbbed and this time all three groaned at once. "Right," he said, tossing his hair out of his eyes. "That's a score I can get behind."


	3. Soaked

Blaise dropped his hard-sided case on the floor and shrugged out of his robes. His stomach grumbled and he grumbled back at it, annoyed that he'd missed dinner. His last meeting of the day had run late, then some bint from International had wanted to chat with him about the new regulations on allowable quill types, and by the time he'd finally managed to tear himself away and duck through one of the large Floos in the Ministry's Atrium, it had gone half-nine.

He rubbed the back of his neck with irritation. A long shower, a quick snack, and he was going to bed. A sound from upstairs caught his attention, stopping him in mid-stride. He cocked his head to listen. The sound repeated, something like a high-pitched keen, and was followed immediately by a deep groan. Blaise grinned, irritation, hunger, and exhaustion all forgotten. Sounded like dinner wasn't the only thing Pansy and Draco had started without him. His cock twitched, already stiffening.

He took the stairs two at a time and had his shirt and tie off before he'd cleared the door of the bedroom. Pansy, bent over the foot of the bed, clutched at the duvet and shrieked as Draco drove into her. Draco turned his head and blew a kiss at Blaise. "Hey, mate," he said, slapping one hand on Pansy's arse to make her howl instead of give a greeting. "Want to cut in?"

"You know it," Blaise said as he kicked his shoes under the bed. He stripped down and kissed Draco's cheek. Draco ground into Pansy and stepped back, his cock dark with blood and shining from Pansy's juices. Blaise gave him a stroke and caught his wrist to hold him in place. "Don't go far," he said.

Draco grinned and stood at Pansy's side, one hand on her back. Her thighs glistened, arousal and excitement obvious in the deep red color of her wet cunt. Draco reached beneath her and felt for her clit, and Pansy's cunt clenched as she groaned. She trembled and her body released a wave of wetness that dripped from her to patter onto the carpet.

Blaise pumped his cock fast, bringing his half-erection to full. He lined up and slid into Pansy. "Fuck, you're soaking," he muttered, hanging his head to watch as he thrust into her.

Pansy grunted, her nails scraping at the duvet. "Already come twice," she said in a rough voice. "Draco was trying for four before you got home. He's got one in."

Blaise pushed into her and drew out, his shaft gleaming. "I can tell." The liquid coating his skin had a pearlescent sheen and a sticky feel to it that spoke of Draco's ejaculate. He gave Draco an arch look and slammed into Pansy. His bollocks slapped against her, the wet sound echoing in the room.

"Good thing you came home when you did," Draco said, drawing his fingers through the droplets of sweat that dotted Pansy's spine. "I need a break and our girl here wasn't very keen on letting me rest."

Pansy scrabbled at the duvet and thrust back against Blaise. "Somebody promised me four," she said, lifting her head to look up at Draco and over her shoulder at Blaise. "I want my four. C'mon, boys. _Fuck_ me."


	4. Smoke

Blaise loved to watch Draco smoke. First thing in the morning, still aching and tight from a night of sex, Blaise would roll his head on the pillow and look to the window as soon as he felt the weight of the mattress change. Pansy, nestled in against his chest, would murmur and cling to him, her long legs tangling with his as she slept. Blaise didn't sleep.

Blaise _always_ watched.

Draco came into view from around the bed, loose trousers hanging from his narrow hips. Welted, red lines ran down his back, some straight along his spine, most jagged and messy across his shoulders. Blaise took one of Pansy's hands and kissed her fingers, flicking his tongue against her nails. It was a rare occurrence, but the night before, she'd managed it. She'd clawed Draco hard enough to make him scream. Blaise smiled as he watched Draco move, stiffness and pain obvious in the set of his shoulders. He'd take a willowbark potion with his coffee that morning, but Blaise knew well enough that all three of them would consider the ache to be worth it.

Draco pushed open the window and propped himself in the sill, one bare foot pressed against the frame to hold his position. He took a silver case off the table and flipped it open to draw out one slender black cigarette. Pushing it between his lips, he set the case on the table and swore softly around the cigarette when the case clattered. He flicked a glance at the bed and caught Blaise's eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"You don't have to apologize," Blaise said, keeping his voice quiet. "I'm awake. I watch you every morning, you know."

"I know." Draco took up a matchbox and lit his cigarette, the yellow flame crackling against the tobacco. He shook out the match and dropped it out the window. "I know you watch me. I don't mind. I try to be quiet so I don't wake Pansy."

"I'm awake, too," she said against Blaise's chest, and he kissed the top of her hair as she stirred. "The smell wakes me up. I just don't move."

"Do you want me to start going outside?"

Pansy shook her head. She rolled in Blaise's arms and pressed her arse and shoulders to him, her head tucked under his chin. "No. I didn't say the smell bothered me. I like it, really. Smells a little like cherries." She covered a yawn before lacing her fingers in Blaise's. "And, um. Mint?"

"Cloves," Blaise said. He settled his free arm over Pansy's waist, his fingers moving idly against her stomach. "It's cloves."

Draco hummed and nodded at Blaise. He took a deep drag, the tip of the cigarette glowing bright as the paper and tobacco burned away with a quiet crackle. He blew a smoke ring out the window. Blaise shivered, watching the shape of his lips. He'd noticed early on that the way Draco hollowed his cheeks for each inhale was familiar, but it had taken him a while to realize the reason for that familiarity.

When Draco took a drag, his mouth took on almost exactly the same shape and movement as it did when he smiled and lowered his head to Blaise's groin. When Draco sucked down smoke, Blaise imagined Draco sucking his cock.

Draco exhaled smoke through his nose, twin streams floating out the window. Blaise kissed the top of Pansy's head and pressed close to her, his cock stirring against her arse. Draco licked his lips and Blaise stifled a moan. He knew that Draco's mouth would taste of cloves for the next few minutes. He wanted that mouth on him.

His hips rocked and Pansy made a quiet noise. She turned and whispered a question to him and Blaise groaned. She stretched, one arm sliding across to bed, her hand out to Draco. "Bring that over here, would you?" she asked. She ground her arse against Blaise until his cock fell into the narrow cleft of her buttocks.

Draco glanced at them, cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, brows raised. "You don't like me to smoke in bed," he said, but there was interest in his voice.

Pansy purred and crooked her finger. "Get over here. We want to watch. Up close and personal." She glanced over her shoulder and grinned at Blaise. "And when you've finished sucking that down, Blaise has something else that needs sucked. We all know you're better at it than I am."

Draco laughed, flicked his cigarette out the window, and lit a fresh one. He strolled across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Leaning over them, he blew smoke along the line of Pansy's arm and down Blaise's side. "Well, then. Let's get started."


	5. Boots

"These," Draco said, reaching over Pansy's shoulder to tap a pair of boots on the display shelf. "Get these."

Pansy shook her head and leaned back against him. Draco slid one arm around her waist, his other hand resting on the toe of the boots. "Why those?" she asked. "Draco, I have seven pairs of black boots already. Why should I buy another set?"

His breath was hot against the shell of her ear, his lips brushing the curve of her lobe as he spoke. "I just like them. Get these, Parks."

"I'm not buying _another_ pair until you tell me what's so special about these." She tipped her head onto his shoulder and glanced up. His lips were pressed together, a small muscle jumping in his cheek. She raised her hand and placed it against his jaw. "You're always asking me to buy boots," she said, keeping her voice low. "I know you have a reason. I'm not an idiot, love. I don't mind. If you fancy me in boots, there's nothing odd about that. Actually, I think it's rather exciting. I just want to know why you're so keen on _this_ pair. Why these?"

Blaise, coming up beside them with a shoe box in hand, heard her quiet question. "Because they have laces." Draco stiffened behind her and Pansy stroked his cheek to settle him. Blaise looked at Draco for a moment, then sighed and touched Draco's arm. "Malfoy, I shared a dorm with you for seven years and I've lived with you and Pansy for three. I've known what gets you off since we were thirteen. You like boots, you always have, and I'm tired of you trying to talk Pansy into getting another pair without saying exactly what you want. Stop frustrating yourself and just tell her what you like."

He stepped in front of them, pressing close to Pansy to wrap his arms around her and Draco. Pansy nestled in between her men as Blaise touched his forehead to Draco's. "Just tell her, Draco, and she'll take care of you. We've always taken care of each other. For god's sake, man, we _openly_ live together and the last time my mother invited us to tea, she said 'bring your girlfriend and your boyfriend'. Add that to the number of things we've done together? This isn't even close to the oddest."

Pansy laid her head against Blaise's chest, listening to his heartbeat as she waited for Draco. Either he would relax and surrender or he'd rush out of the shop and they wouldn't see him until the next day. He had to decide if this was something he could trust them to know. She knew too well that neither she nor Blaise could force him to talk.

Draco shivered, his heart pounding hard against her back, then he exhaled sharply. Her hair stirred with his breath as his arms came around her to rest on Blaise's waist. "Black boots," he murmured. Pansy wanted to shift, to look up at his face and see if he'd closed his eyes, if the lines bracketing his mouth had gone white with tension, but she held still and let him talk. "Knee-high. At least. Tall heels, very pointed. Laces that go all the way up. Dragonhide or leather. The texture, the feel, it's very important. And, er. And that's ... that's what I like. That's what I want."

He dipped his head, nuzzling into her neck. Pansy moved enough to give him better access, her hand sliding to rest atop his on Blaise's side. She pressed her shoulders back and lifted her other hand to settle on his nape. Gently rubbing along his hairline, she crooned to him. "Sounds lovely," she said in a whisper. "Sounds very lovely, Draco. I can get something like that. I'll get something like that made just for you and I'll wear them whenever you like." She had more questions but Draco was shaking against her. Pansy tipped her head to meet Blaise's eyes, raising her brows. They'd spoken enough there in public and the shop clerk was already trying not to look their direction.

Blaise nodded and released them. Pansy turned and drew Draco's head down for a long kiss. "Let's go home," she said, resting her cheek against his and her hand over his heart. "Let's go home and talk this out some more. You tell me everything, love, and I promise I'll do my best to give you exactly what you want."


	6. Pressure

"Are you sure?" Draco runs two fingers under the curve of Pansy's jaw and down the column of her throat. He taps at the hollow just above the notch of her collar bones. Taps it gently, then hard, then presses into it until pressure turns her pale skin white.

Pansy gives a soft, keening wail and wriggles on the bed, her knees lifting beside Blaise's shoulders, her feet digging into the mattress. "Yes," she says. She draws it out in a breathy hiss and stretches her arms up to grip the headboard, her back arching high and her breasts swaying. "God, yes. Draco, I trust you. _Please_."

He releases the pressure of his finger on her neck and leans over to kiss her, tongue tracing the soft skin of her inner lip. "All right. Remember to tap out if it's too much." He settles against the headboard, pillows at his back to prop him up in a sitting position. Pansy leans on his chest, her head tipping back against his shoulder and her hands resting loose on his thighs.

Blaise grins up at them. "Good view," he says with a soft laugh. Pansy nudges him with one heel and Blaise laughs again before ducking his head to nuzzle between Pansy's thighs. She sighs in pleasure as he starts to lick at her pink cunt.

Draco takes a deep breath and sets his hand over Pansy's throat. She strokes his thighs and purrs in encouragement. Her throat vibrates against Draco's palm and he lifts his brows, surprised by both the feel and the way it makes his cock respond and twitch against her back.

He presses down and Pansy's nails scrape his legs, raking furrows into the dark blond hair dusting his thighs. She presses her shoulders back, rocking her hips up to Blaise's seeking tongue. The slick, wet sounds of Blaise licking her cunt has Draco breathing harder. Pansy gives a low moan and Draco tightens his hold on her throat.

Each time she arches into Blaise's mouth, Draco tenses his hand around her throat. He can feel her swallow, can feel her heart pounding against his fingers. Blaise's head bobs between Pansy's thighs and she tosses her head on Draco's shoulder, her hair damp with sweat and her face turning bright red.

Draco tightens further, harder, more and more until Pansy is writhing against him, her mouth wide open and her nostrils flared as she struggles to breathe. She claws at his thighs, scratching welts into the skin, but she doesn't reach up to tap his wrist. She fights and strives for air, and she grinds her cunt against Blaise's face.

She bucks her hips until Blaise has to wrap his arms over her legs to hold her still. Despite Draco's grip, Pansy keens, high and rapid sounds as her orgasm approaches. He presses harder.

Harder.

He tightens his fingers and he _squeezes_ her air from her throat.

Pansy spasms, her entire body shuddering, her heels drumming against the bed. Her nails dig into Draco's legs as she comes. She writhes and thrashes and collapses. Draco releases her throat immediately and gathers her to him, his arms around her stomach to hold her close. She falls still, boneless against him, her head lolling on his shoulder.

Blaise lifts his head and rubs his hand across his mouth. "She's smiling," he says, cocking his head to look at Draco. "Think she enjoyed that."

Draco laughs quietly and kisses Pansy's hair. "Surprisingly enough, she wasn't the only one. We're going to have to try that again." He arches one brow. "Soon."


	7. Shy

Draco's washing his hands in the stained sink, his head bowed as he pays close attention to getting every bit of ink off his knuckles. The door creaks and footsteps echo off the white tiles. Draco flicks his gaze to the mirror without moving his head, waiting for the man to come around the edge of the privacy wall. His shoulders tense and his hands go still under the running water. It's been years, over a decade, and he still readies for battle if he's not alone in a bathroom.

The dark eyes and bright smile are the first thing he sees in the mirror, and Draco exhales silently, his body going off alert. "Blaise," he says, nodding once and flashing a smile of his own. "New tie?"

Blaise slides one hand down the blue silk, flicks the silver chain of his tie tack. "Pansy," he says with a short roll of his eyes.

Draco hides a laugh. If Blaise has a new tie from Pansy, then there will be one waiting at home for him. Green, in all likelihood, possibly grey or black. Pansy mocks him for his wardrobe, because everything he owns is in the same five colors, but she always abides by his wishes when she shops. She saves her fashion efforts for Blaise, and as Draco shakes the last drops of water off his hands, he sees those efforts in Blaise's tie. Little silver dragons frolic in the charmed fabric, twining tails and rubbing jowls as they slide up and down the silk.

Blaise joins him at the sink, and they both glance at the privacy wall before leaning together. They're circumspect at work, even if everyone knows about their unconventional triad, but right then Blaise and Draco are alone. Blaise kisses Draco's temple; Draco kisses Blaise's jaw. They rest against each other, just for a moment, then Blaise pushes back and tilts his head to the door. "Keep an eye out for me?"

Draco shakes his head, a small grin twisting his lips. Blaise makes a face at him. "C'mon. Don't be a dick." Draco's only movement is in his mouth as his grin widens. Blaise is piss shy, always has been, and Draco was often pressed into service to guard the door at Hogwarts. Usually he lets Blaise take a leak in private, but today there's an imp on his shoulder. He leans against the sink, the edge of it pressing against his arse, and folds his arms.

Blaise looks at him, lips pressed together, hands stiff at his sides. "Draco," he says in a low voice. He jerks his head and nods at the door. "Get out."

Draco doesn't move. He watches in silence until Blaise looks away, rubs one hand over his close-shaved scalp. Draco can't see a blush on Blaise's dark skin, but he recognizes the flex of his fingers, the shuffle of his feet. Draco raises one brow, looking over his lover's stance and posture, unconsciously cataloging every fidget and twitch. It hits him abruptly, hits him hard enough to make his heart stutter and his breath catch. This isn't irritation or annoyance. It isn't anxiety or disquiet. He knows this look, knows that flicker of Blaise's eyes, that hastening of Blaise's breath.

Blaise doesn't hate to be watched, Draco realizes.

Blaise _likes_ it.

He pushes off the sink, rolls his shoulders as he walks to Blaise. Blaise averts his head and stares at the floor, and his skin is hot when Draco brushes his fingers across Blaise's cheek. Draco cups his jaw, pulling gently to turn Blaise to face him. "Let me stay," he whispers.

Blaise shivers, his entire body juddering. He shakes his head, shakes it hard, and his lips move in a soundless refusal. Draco settles his hand on Blaise's shoulder, one finger moving gently against his neck just above the stiff collar of his shirt. Blaise closes his eyes and licks his lips. "No," he manages to say, but his voice is soft and cracking.

"I want to," Draco says. He keeps his eyes on Blaise's face, slides his free hand down Blaise's arm to lock their hands together. "I want to, Blaise."

Blaise shudders, but his fingers clamp on to Draco's. He holds Draco's hand, turns his head to brush his chin against Draco's moving finger. "You don't want to watch," he says, and this time his voice is flat, dull with what Draco thinks is an old, painful memory. He remains still, stays quiet, and after a long and quivering breath, Blaise opens his eyes. When he speaks, Draco can hear someone else speaking through him. "It's dirty and disgusting."

"No," Draco says, firmly. He squeezes Blaise's hand, brings their foreheads together, shares touch and breath with his lover. "Not to me. _Nothing_ about you, about your wants, is dirty and disgusting to me. It never has been, and it never will be."

He can almost hear Blaise's heartbeat slowing. Blaise exhales, his breath bouncing off Draco's lips with the scent of blueberries. Draco smiles. Blaise has been sneaking sweets again. Draco can picture him in his office, looking at the door with a surreptitious glance, unwrapping the hard candy beneath his desk in slow movements so the foil doesn't crinkle. He pictures Blaise popping the sweet into his mouth, furtive and quick.

Draco strokes Blaise's cheek. Sweets can be furtive and hidden, if Blaise wants. This - want and desire and need - shouldn't be hidden. "Show me," he says, tipping his head to brush a kiss across the corner of Blaise's mouth.

Blaise swallows hard, then takes a step back. Another and another, and he turns around with Draco's hand tight in his, tugs him over to the line of porcelain urinals. He takes place at the one closest to the wall and Draco stands beside him, guarding. Watching.

Blaise flicks a glance at him, teeth worrying at his lower lip. Draco realizes he's not behaving right for this. He squares up to the urinal and locks his eyes on one of the rectangular tiles. He hums quietly. _Weasley is our king_. Beside him, Blaise snickers, then clears his throat. Draco doesn't move his head as he lowers his lashes and looks down to his left.

Blaise lowers his zip. He hesitates before reaching in, reaches over instead and brushes the back of Draco's hand with his little finger. "Thank you," he whispers.

Draco flashes a quick smile at the wall. "You're welcome," he murmurs. Draco hums the next verse of the song, watching as Blaise slips his hand into his trousers.


	8. Rest

Pansy is loose-limbed in the center of the bed. On her stomach, her arms free of the cuffs that had bound her to the iron headboard, she does nothing but breathe. Two male voices murmur beside her, both deep and rolling, lapping against her ears like waves against the shore. A hand strokes down her spine and settles on the scarlet raised welts across her arse. Another hand rests on her thigh, fingers moving in slow, gentle touches around the circular shape of a bite, the prints of teeth showing red in her pale skin.

Pansy's eyelids twitch. She's floating in a warm sea, supported and surrounded, her body lax and weightless. She lost track of her orgasms long before she lost track of herself, and she can still feel the aftershocks in her cunt, inner muscles fluttering and gripping for a cock or fingers or tongue. She breathes deep and exhales with a long, contented sigh. A set of lips presses to her shoulder; another set of lips touches the small of her back.

"Pansy," one of the voices croons to her. She hums in response and feels the two hands on her body as they become four. They stroke her, caress her arms and back, trail over her thighs and arse.

"Pansy," the second voice murmurs close to her ear. She hums again, tipping her head toward the sound.

"She's coming out of it," the first man says, and Pansy can identify him now as Draco, his long fingers tracing the marks of his flogger, the welts left on the curves of her arse. Her lips curl in a smile and she tenses her buttocks beneath his hand. Draco gives a soft chuckle and flattens his palm over her. "Taking you a long time this time, love," he says. The bed creaks, the mattress dipping as Draco stretches out beside her. The tips of his fringe tickle her ribs as he kisses a trail up her back to her shoulder.

"We did wear her out," says the second voice. Blaise squeezes her thigh and the bed creaks again as he moves to take position against her opposite side. His arm slips up the wrinkled, damp sheets and pushes beneath her arm.

Pansy twitches her fingers and Blaise takes her hand, enclosing it in his. She hums once more and tries to speak, but the only sound that emerges from her is a harsh croak. Blaise squeezes her hand. "Don't talk much right now, Parks," he says, his breath hot against her cheek. He kisses the curve of her ear, nips the shell, and spreads his free hand across her back. "You did a lot of screaming. Your throat probably can't take any more use for a while. Just rest. We'll fix you some hot tea with honey, later. You can have it while you're soaking in the bath."

Draco helps her to lift her head and slides a pillow beneath it. Pansy nestles into it, finally managing to open her eyes. Draco is smiling at her, his grey eyes dark with sex and love. She puts a burst of effort into turning her head enough to see Blaise smiling as well. "You were amazing," Draco says. "Not that this should come as a surprise. You always are."

Pansy purrs as she moves her arm to take Draco's hand. Folding her arms beneath her head and pillow, with Blaise and Draco's hands still locked in hers, Pansy closes her eyes again and sighs in perfect contentment. "Good," she says in a rough and drowsy voice. "Rest. Love you both."


	9. Morning

Blaise rolls his head on the pillow as he feels lips against his shoulder. The chin touching his arm is too rounded to be Draco's, and he reaches back with one arm to lay his hand on Pansy's hip. "Morn'," he mumbles without opening his eyes. "Time izzit?"

"It's gone half-nine," Pansy says as she strokes his back, her narrow fingers kneading into the muscles along his spine. "Draco's out for his run. Tea's up, if you want some breakfast."

Blaise shakes his head and cradles his pillow. "Tired," he mutters. "Long day. Gonna have a lie-in."

Pansy makes a disappointed clucking sound and her fingers dance over his side to drum on his stomach. "Poor Blaise," she says in a cooing tone. "Work him so hard, don't they? Kept him until after midnight at the office. Missed dinner. Missed bedtime." She lowers her voice to a whisper and nuzzles at his ear as her fingers slip low to rub at the base of his cock. "Missed me tying Draco to the bed and sucking him until he _begged_ to come."

Blaise manages to open one eye at that, his cock twitching against his thigh. Pansy circles it with her thumb and one finger, stroking from root to tip in slow movements. "Not fair," Blaise says, his voice still rough with sleep. "Y'know how much I like that. Tease."

"Oh, I did." She laughs and wraps her hand fully around him. Blaise muffles a groan in his pillow as her thumb rubs over the head of his cock, tracing the heavy ridge and dancing at the narrow slit. She runs her fingers down the underside and cups his bollocks in her palm. She rolls them in her fingers, tugs gently, pinches the loose skin between them. Pansy bites the curve of his ear and slips her fingers back to stroke the band of muscle just behind his scrotum.

Blaise groans again and rolls to his back. He grabs Pansy and hauls her atop him for a kiss. "Parks," he says, his hands running down her back to cradle her arse as she straddles him. "Body's willing but spirit is worn out. I don't mind if you want to play, but I honestly don't have it in me to participate actively. I'm _tired_ , love."

She sucks on his bottom lip and grinds her hips against him. His cock stiffens, trapped between them, the soft curls of her cunt tickling at his shaft. Pansy lifts her head and smirks at him. "Well, as long as the body's willing. If I agree to let you just lie there, can I do what I want?"

Blaise considers the look of anticipation on Pansy's face, then he smiles. He tucks his hands beneath his head, shuts his eyes, and yawns. "Fine, then. You tyrant. Have your way with me."

Pansy gives a shriek of glee and sits up, clapping her hands. "Brilliant!" She shuffles backward and pushes his legs apart. Blaise feels the bed moving as she takes position between his knees, then she pounces with a wild laugh. Her mouth fastens around the head of his cock and she sucks. _Hard_.

Blaise can feel the insides of her cheeks touching his cock as she draws on him, and he swears deep in his throat. He snaps his hands down to clutch at her hair. Pansy grabs his wrists. She releases his cock with a wet pop and pushes his hands to the bed. "Naughty," she says in a throaty, wicked voice. "You're tired, remember? Much too tired to move, and that means no touching."

"Tease," Blaise says again. "Tyrant." He obediently returns his hands to their spot beneath his pillow. Pansy makes a sound of approval and takes his cock between her lips.

She sucks and licks at him, but this time she keeps her touch gentle. Slow. Each movement of her tongue is soft; each brush of her lips is like a breeze. Pansy touches him as if he is made of the finest, thinnest china, as if the slightest pressure will shatter him. Blaise tips his head back and lets out another yawn, relaxing into the pillow and letting Pansy play as she likes.

When he comes, it actually startles him, the pulse and throb of his cock a surprise to his drifting mind. He lets out a moan as he spills into Pansy's mouth. She swallows and cleans his skin with slow sweeps of her tongue, licking up every drop. She releases his cock and gives it a gentle pat before slithering up the bed to nestle in against his side.

Blaise sighs and wraps his arm around her, stroking her hair as she lays her head on his heart. "Suppose you won't object if I fall asleep straight after for once," he says with a quiet laugh.

Pansy chuckles and draws a heart on his stomach with the point of her nail. "Not this time."


	10. Plugged

Draco slips his arm around Pansy's waist and gives her a squeeze as they leave the Ministry. Pansy's walk is stiff, with far less of the serpentine hip sway Draco appreciates so much, and he looks sidelong at her with concern. He waits until they're on the street, where the noise of lorries and taxis and tourists will cover up their conversation. "Something wrong?" he asks, kicking at a fat, complaining pigeon to clear it from their path.

Pansy huffs, her fringe lifting from her forehead. "You could say that." Draco sees a thin sheen of sweat on her skin, sees a light pink flush in her cheeks that hadn't been there when she'd collected him for their lunch date. She stares into the window of the restaurant as they walk along the front of it, then draws Draco to a halt in the narrow doorway beside it. "It was fine while I was sitting still," she tells him. She runs her hands up his chest and grabs his tie, crushing the silk in both fists. "But walking -- it's going to kill me, Draco."

Her voice is tight and strained and for a moment Draco can't fathom why. Then Pansy shifts, fidgeting on her tall heels, and her arse presses against the door behind her. Her eyelids flicker. Her mouth opens, lips parting in a perfect circle, and the smallest, breathiest moan escapes her. Realization hits him, and Draco matches her soft moan. "What are you wearing?" he asks, gripping the sides of her thin, sleeveless dress. The material clings to her body, outlining her breasts in a sweep so smooth he can tell she's gone without a bra. It can't be clamps or anything on her nipples. That would be blindingly obvious.

She tightens her grasp on his tie and hauls him down until his ear is level with her mouth. "The plug," she hisses against his cheek. "That plug you brought back from Lisbon."

Draco groans again and his hands lock on her waist. He pushes her against the door and steps in close. "Where?" he asks, biting the point of her jaw. "Where is it, Parks?"

"R-rear," she mutters, her head tipped against the glass window of the door.

Draco gives her a little shake, rubbing her arse on the wood, and Pansy keens as her eyes roll back. "Tell me," he demands. Pansy will say all manner of filthy things to him or Blaise when they're in bed or in the Wizarding world, but she always goes prudish when they're surrounded by Muggles. Draco wants to hear her say it. "Tell me."

"God," she moans. She opens her eyes and Draco sucks in a breath at the heat in her expression. "My-my rear. My bum." She presses her lips together but can't block the soft keen entirely as Draco pushes her against the door. "Damn you, Malfoy," she growls. "My arse. It's in my arse. I put it in after you and Blaise left this morning, and I've been wearing it for hours. _Fuck_ , it has me stretched."

She grabs his hair and tilts his head to bite his ear, sucks his lobe between her teeth and flicks her tongue around it. "You wouldn't believe how wet I am," she says. "I'm already on my third pair of knickers."

Draco pushes his hand between her and the door. Pansy yelps, sinks her teeth into his ear, but lifts her hips to give him room. Draco gropes at her arse, pushing her dress into the split. He can feel the flared end of the plug holding her cheeks apart. He presses on it and Pansy slips an inch down the door as her legs shake. "Draco, _please_."

He releases her and steps back, brows lifted. "We'll be late for lunch," he says, as if nothing had passed between them.

"You _bastard_ ," he hears her say as he turns from her, and he grins as he goes into the restaurant.

She follows, sitting at their table with a whimper. By the time the server brings the bill, her face is a brilliant red and her dress is dark with sweat between her breasts. Draco stands and holds his hand out to her. Pansy sucks her lips between her teeth to hold back her groan as she stands.

Draco tugs her to the rear of the restaurant, to the narrow hallway that leads to the loos. He looks over his shoulder, making certain no one is watching them, then pushes Pansy into the gents. He locks the door and turns to grab Pansy around the waist. In one movement he lifts her and puts her on the wide counter that surrounds the sink.

Pansy howls and Draco winces as he draws his wand. He snaps his wrist to throw a Silencing charm at the door and drops his wand beside her hip. He shoves her dress up and hauls her knickers down, shoving them into his pocket before pulling her to the edge of the counter. Pansy struggles to help him, but every shift of her arse makes her groan. She claws at his shoulders and chest as he gets his trousers open. "Please, please," she begs, her head rocking against the mirror behind her with each word.

Draco slings her legs around his waist and grabs his cock. He drives into her, sinks full into her cunt in one thrust. Pansy shrieks, her nails scraping on the plastered wall. Draco sets a hard, fast rhythm, his bollocks slapping against the flare of the plug. He reaches beneath Pansy and grabs the plug's end to pull on it. He rocks it in her arse, an inch out, an inch in, matching the pattern of his thrusts.

Pansy wails, swearing freely now, her hands kneading at her breasts and plucking her nipples taut through the fabric. "God, Draco," she says, panting. "Fuck me. _Fuck_. So close. So fucking close."

He shoves the plug into her arse and drives his cock deep into her cunt. He rocks against her, grinding at her clit, and Pansy bucks. She screams, her head thrown back and her throat distended. Draco swears as she comes and her cunt squeezes tight around him. He pumps into her, clinging to her hips as his own orgasm nears. "Gonna," he mutters, and that's all he can say before his heart goes wild and his body stiffens. He slams one hand into the mirror beside Pansy's head and leans over her, grunting with each pulse of his cock.

When he pulls out of her, come drips from her cunt to spatter onto the floor between his feet. He barely has the strength to grab his wand and clean up, and has to make three tries before he can dry Pansy's knickers enough to slide them up her legs. He slumps against the wall, hand over his heart, and gives Pansy a wavering smile. "So, Parks," he says, and chuckles at the strained sound of his own voice. "Think that was worth wearing that thing all day?"

She opens one eye and nods. "One question, though." She smirks at him. "Will you fuck me like that again if I wear it the rest of the day?"

Draco cups her cheek and gives her a long kiss. "Actually, I'm planning to tell Blaise. And watch."


	11. Quiet

Draco slipped into Blaise's office and shut the door behind him. Blaise didn't lift his eyes from the report he was attempting to read for the third time, not until he heard the soft whisper as Draco cast a spell. Blaise looked up, blinking. "Did you just lock my door?"

Draco sauntered across the office, his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his trousers, his fingers drumming against his hips. "I did. And you're not going to argue with me. Not one word." He came around Blaise's desk and sat on the edge of it as he tugged loose the knot of his tie and pulled it free from his collar.

"Draco, I--"

Draco pulled the length of silk taut between his hands and leaned forward, pressing it over Blaise's mouth. "Not one word," he repeated, arching a brow. 

Blaise looked into Draco's eyes, his heart pounding. Draco hadn't moved more than an inch, had only said those three words in command, but it was enough. It was more than enough. Blaise felt dizzy. His mouth went dry and he swallowed hard before closing his eyes and giving one slow nod. He tipped his head forward, giving Draco room to get between him and the back of the chair.

Draco leaned close to Blaise's ear. "Good boy," he said in a low rumble. "Don't make a sound." 

Blaise opened his mouth and worked the tie between his teeth, nodding when it was positioned well. Draco knotted it at the back of his head. He put one foot between Blaise's knees and pushed the chair away from the desk. The point of his tongue circled his mouth as he lowered to his knees in front of Blaise. 

Blaise bit down on the tie, chewing on the silk, and watched as Draco slid both hands up his thighs. Draco opened his trousers and lifted his cock free, immediately pressing a kiss to the tip. Blaise gripped the arms of his chair tight, tendons standing out in the backs of his hands, as Draco opened wide and slid down his cock, tongue fluttering against the underside. Draco didn't pause, didn't hesitate, but set to sucking him with fervor. He took Blaise in, lips, tongue, and throat working in concert.

Blaise ground the silk tie between his teeth, his tongue working against it, soaking the material as Draco's head bobbed on his cock. He watched his lover, silently begging, silently _ordering_ Draco to move faster, suck harder, to get him off as soon as possible. Draco drew up, flicked his tongue around the ridge of Blaise's cock, and lifted his head.

Blaise whimpered.

Draco gave a slow, wicked smile and rose to his feet. He hooked two fingers in the tie and pulled it free of Blaise's mouth. "Naughty," he said, leaning down for a quick kiss. "I warned you. You'll have to wait until tonight for the rest." He patted Blaise's cheek and left him there, the wet tie dangling against his chin.


	12. Unknown

Standing naked in the middle of the bedroom, Pansy closed her eyes and held her arms out to her sides. She spun in place, listening to the soft rustle of robes as Draco and Blaise stripped. When she stopped, one man stood in front of her and one stood behind. She didn't know which. She kept her eyes closed and they didn't speak. All she had to judge by was the sound of their breathing and the feel of their hands.

Maybe that was Draco behind her, cupping her breasts from beneath to knead and roll her nipples in his long fingers. Maybe that was Blaise in front of her, tracing the line of her hips with his thumbs. She knew she could guess which of her lovers had taken which position, if she wanted to think about it.

She didn't.

She didn't want to think about it at all. She wanted to keep her eyes closed and her mind blank as her lovers touched her. Pansy tipped her head back and let out a deep sigh, relaxing into their caresses. One man nibbled at the side of her throat, lips moving to find the beat of her pulse. One mouthed the inner curve of her thigh, his breath hot on her skin. Her knees quavered as they kissed her, and her breath caught as they stroked her. She was caught between them, two mouths and four hands roaming over her skin.

One squeezed her arse in both hands. One bit her side just below her ribs. One kissed her shoulder, his tongue tracing the curve of the bone. One cupped her mound, his fingers stroking without sliding in. They shifted around her, neither staying in one place long enough to let her get used to a touch or a kiss. Fingers trailed over her breasts, slipped down the cleft of her arse, pushed between the slick folds of her cunt.

Pansy trembled, her hands clutching at empty air. "Bastards," she muttered. She changed her stance, feet spread and hips canted in invitation and demand. "Someone fuck me."

Both men laughed. One pinched her nipple and one slapped her arse. Pansy keened, her legs trembling. "Goddammit," she said, panting for breath. "My legs are going to give out."

They laughed again, but stopped their teasing. Pansy tried not to whimper in relief as all four hands settled on her, guiding her to the bed. She heard it creak as one of them sat on the edge. The second stood behind her, arms wrapping around her waist to lift her up. The sitting man took her legs, bent and spread them to straddle him. The man behind her guided her into position, opened her up as she sank down onto the other's cock.

Pansy wriggled one arm around _his_ shoulders, stretched the other behind her to wrap her fingers around _his_ cock. She stroked one and rode the other, claiming both for her own. They moaned, their voices blending into one.


	13. Round

Pansy's abdomen felt tender, and she slept pressed against Draco, claiming he was a better source of warmth than any heating pad or charm could manage. She didn't have to explain her aches to him or to Blaise, who brought home a pound of caramel and chocolate the night before. Pansy doesn't weep or shriek when her hormones run wild; she dozes on the sofa when she's not working in the garden, her hands buried in the soft dirt. The only thing she asked was that the men be gentle with her for a few days, careful not to press hard on her stomach or pinch her swollen nipples.

Blaise wriggled one hand between her and Draco and smoothed his fingers over her belly, stroking her skin. Pansy murmured in her sleep. Blaise could feel the change in her body, the slight swelling that comes in the couple of days before she starts to bleed. He wondered how much difference he could feel if she were pregnant instead, if she were carrying a child. His or Draco's, it didn't matter. They agreed long ago. When they were ready for children, they wouldn't care which of them was the physical father. In the heart, they both would be.

Blaise kissed the back of Pansy's shoulder and imagined how she would feel in his arms if she had a child in her womb. He imagined stroking his hands over the slope of her belly, over the mounded swell. He knew she'd be just as beautiful at her fullest as she was right then. Even if she waddled when she walks, even if her feet swelled and her arse spread, even if her body earned a scattering of silver marks as her skin stretched. Even then, she'd still be beautiful to him.

Pansy stirred, her arm slipping over his side to rest on the small of his back. "What?" she asked in a drowsy murmur. "I can feel you staring at me, Blaise. What do you want?"

"Nothing right now," he told her. He rubbed her stomach gently, her skin smooth under his palm, Draco's dusting of pale gold hairs tickling the back of his hand. "Thinking about the future. Having kids."

She twisted enough to look at him. Draco made a disgruntled noise and turned closer, tangling his legs in both of theirs even in his sleep. Pansy patted Draco gently without taking her attention from Blaise. "It's been a while since we talked about that," she said. "Feeling paternal?"

"Just thinking." Pansy turned a little more and Blaise drew his fingers over her belly, circling her navel. He kissed the tip of her snub nose and smiled at her. "Thinking about how beautiful you'd be pregnant."

Pansy laughed. "I'd be awkward and sweaty and tired."

"Mmm." He nuzzled her cheek. "Maybe. But you'd also be gorgeous and sexy and glowing. I think you'd be just as amazing when carrying a child as you are right now. I'd wouldn't be one whit less turned on by you, and I can guarantee that Draco wouldn't be either. You've seen how he gets around pregnant women. Practically have to shove him into a cold bath."

"Do not." The response was deep and rumbly, hoarse with sleep. 

Blaise looked over Pansy's head to grin at Draco. "Don't lie, mate. I saw you staring at that junior department head yesterday. Thought about tying you to your desk so you wouldn't rub her stomach again."

"Tie him to the desk anyway," Pansy said, giggling. "He likes it."

Draco snorted and smacked her thigh with affection. "Fine, all right. You caught me. It's the whole pureblood lineage fertility breeding thing. I don't even know what it is." He hid a yawn in Pansy's shoulder and snuggled down, his hand over her waist and touching Blaise's stomach. "But yes. I admit. Pregnant women are sexy. If we decide to have kids, Parks, fair warning. I'll be on you every day."

"Every other day," Blaise corrected. He patted Pansy's stomach, cupping his hand to account for an imagined roundness. "He'll have to take his turn. Pregnant women are sexy, and you would be sexiest of them all, Pansy. I promise."


End file.
